


Molten

by Gemfae



Series: Gemfae's HD_Owlpost Contributions [14]
Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Artisan Harry Potter, Fluff, M/M, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Shop Owner Harry Potter, Smart! Harry Potter, Smitten Draco Malfoy, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21631513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemfae/pseuds/Gemfae
Summary: While looking for a Christmas gift for his mother, Draco Malfoy comes across a glass shop that sells amazing living-glass creations. When he finds out that the owner of the shop, and creator of the beautiful glass pieces, is Harry Potter, a friendship forms-or perhaps it will be something more.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Gemfae's HD_Owlpost Contributions [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1255409
Comments: 12
Kudos: 364
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019, Love/Hate Drarry





	Molten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darkravenwrote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkravenwrote/gifts).



> For Darkravenwrote: I loved your prompt for Harry to have his own little shop. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Note: The idea for living glass creations comes from a book called Shatterglass, which is a YA novel in the "Circle Opens" series by Tamora Pierce.

Two weeks before Christmas, twenty-six-year-old Draco Malfoy could be found walking through Wizarding London in search of a special gift for his mother. He had already purchased and wrapped several gifts for her in the form of clothes, jewelry, and art, but he had yet to find that one, unique item his mother would love for years to come. He was feeling frustrated by his lack of progress and irritated by the press of the crowd.

As he was walking past Gringotts a glint of gold caught his eye; turning his head, Draco saw a narrow alley beside the bank and at the mouth of the alley was a small black sign on a silver signpost with the words ‘Artistic Alley’ engraved in elegant gold script. Draco vaguely remembered hearing about the new alley being added to the shopping district a few years ago, but he had never needed to visit it before. Figuring he had nothing to lose, Draco turned down the dark alley, which soon opened up into a bright, colorful street.

Looking around the new street, Draco was surprised at how different it was from Diagon Alley. The shops in Diagon were made of dark woods and stone, the cobblestone street was worn, and the air was heavy with the feel of centuries of magic. The colors on the shop signs were bold and dark, and the windows which showcased the merchandised were most often lined in velvet and dark silks. The shop interiors were also dark, with little natural light. Everything had a sense of age and history.

Artistic Alley was the complete opposite in appearance and atmosphere. The shops were made of lighter colored wood and stones, the street was a mosaic made mostly of white stones, with swirls of light blue, purple, and green; magic kept the stones shining brightly, preventing foot traffic from wearing them down. The storefronts had large windows lighted from within, and the signs had colorful words and images. Even the snow lining the street was colorful-he saw banks of snow in bright blue, neon green and pastel pink. The air here was still full of magic, but it felt lighter than that of Diagon Alley.

It was also much less crowded here.

Feeling more at ease than he had since he started shopping earlier that morning, Draco decided to take a leisurely stroll down the alley to see what the shops had to offer. It was nearing noon, so he figured he’d window shop, then have lunch before actually going in any of the shops. As he walked down the new, interesting street, Draco saw that many of the stores also held workshops; most of the merchandise on sale was apparently made right on site. There was a store called “Illuminations” specializing in unique lighting fixtures, an art store called “Splatter”, a clothing store called “Threads Up”, and a dance studio called “Beats”, among many other shops and restaurants. There were several open, green spaces throughout the alley; most had benches and trees, one was dedicated as a flying zone, and one had playground equipment.

At the end of the alley, almost directly opposite Gringotts, there was a large floating fountain. The base was shaped like a bowl made of dark stone, contrasting nicely with the light colors seen throughout the rest of the alley. Water flowed from a slightly smaller disk hovering above the basin, and a large glass sphere floated above that. A tiled mosaic path circled the fountain in a floral design, and a brass plaque hovered just below the basin, declaring the fountain to be named “Flight of the Nargles”, designed by Luna Lovegood.

After admiring the fountain for a few minutes (and making a mental note to come back and see it at night, when the plaque said the fountain would be illuminated), Draco stopped for lunch at a small sandwich shop called “Paradise Café”. The sign said they specialized in cuisine inspired by Jamaica and the Caribbean, and Draco was pleased with his pineapple chicken salad sandwich and fried plantains with sorrel tea. Draco didn’t normally like iced teas, but the spicy tea went well with the food, and he bought a tin of the tea mix to take home with him.

Strolling through the alley after lunch, Draco popped into a few shops and looked around, buying a few items that caught his eye but mostly just taking in the variety of goods on offer. While he was looking around, Draco saw a large number of House Elves, which reminded him of the outraged article in the Daily Prophet that talked about how the shops in Artistic Alley only employed free elves and actually paid them for their work. Many of the old families were boycotting the new shopping area for that reason, and Draco realized that was why the street was so much less crowded than Diagon. Draco decided it was their loss; if he’d learned anything during and after the war, it was that you had to learn how to adapt to new ideas. The world was changing, and you either changed with it, or you got left behind.

Draco was halfway down the alley when he came to a shop that had caught his eye earlier; the whole front of the shop was bright, clear glass, with the shop name painted in dark blue on both of the doors. Molten was a glass shop, and the only visible employees were three House Elves; two were constantly cleaning and shining the glass, while the third was operating the cash register. The glass objects inside the shop were a mixture of purely non-magical items, non-magical items that had been charmed, and items that were made with magic. The non-magical items were tagged with a black star indicating that they were safe to gift to Muggles, while the charmed objects were spelled with different effects- the carousel moved and played music, while the glass wolf howled at the moon. The magic-infused glass objects, however, were what was really special.

By the cash register, there was a delicate silver cage with a pair of glass lovebirds that acted just like real birds; they chirped, flew around the cage, and ate the offerings of colored sand. Nearby was a terracotta flower pot filled with different colored sands, out of which grew a glass rose bush with roses blooming in purple, red and pink. The work was exquisite, and Draco knew that he wanted to have something made for his mother. A small sign indicated that the owner accepted consultations for custom orders, and Draco wasted no time in slipping through the door marked “Employees Only”.

The door revealed a short hallway, which ended with another door that opened to a courtyard. There was another, plainer building at the other end of the courtyard; the front of the building had no windows but instead had large doors that swung out to leave the building open on that side. Draco quickly charmed his clothes to resist dust and dirt and then made his way confidently to the workshop, where he could see a figure in protective clothing working with a piece of molten glass.

As he entered the workshop, Draco was hit by a wave of heat and quickly cast a cooling charm on himself, before adding another charm to make sure his clothes were also protected from fire. He glanced around the workshop curiously, noticing the shelves and cabinets full of raw materials, broken glass and various pieces of equipment. There were several ovens, of more than one design, and other items he couldn’t identify. There were also several House Elves in the building, removing items from ovens and prepping materials.

Draco brought his attention back to the glassworker. The man was shorter than Draco by a couple of inches, with messy dark hair. His face was covered by a mask, and he had long work gloves covering most of his arms, but Draco could see strong muscles, and he watched as the man manipulated the molten glass at the end of the long pipe. The glass had started as a blob, but as he watched, it slowly formed the shape of a horse. Draco watched for what had to be hours as the horse became an alicorn, with a cloudy white body, pink mane and tail, and golden horn and hooves. The wings were also tipped with pink, and Draco thought he could see magic swirling within the glass body.

The glassworker broke the Pegasus off the pipe into the hands of the House Elf who appeared at just the right moment. The elf took the completed item away, and the glassworker removed the elbow-length work gloves, revealing tanned, muscled arms. The face mask was the next to go, tossed carelessly onto a nearby, empty workbench, followed by the heavy leather apron. The man next took off his grey t-shirt, which he used to wipe his face. Draco watched the muscles in the other man’s back ripple and found himself wondering what those muscles would feel like under his hands.

Then, the man turned towards him, and Draco’s thoughts came to a crashing halt as grey eyes met emerald green for the first time in six years.

“Potter?!”

“Malfoy?” Harry Potter frowned at him, not like he was angry, but more like he was confused, “What are you doing here? Did Blaise send you?”

“I-what? Why would Blaise send me?” Draco demanded, “No, wait; how would Blaise even know you were here?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Potter’s frown deepened.

“Obviously not,” Draco replied, glaring at the brunet.

“Oh, well, it’s a bit of a long story,” Potter said, for all the world like there was nothing unusual about Draco just showing up in his workshop…like there was nothing unusual about Harry-bloody-Potter making and selling glasswork for a living. “I probably wouldn’t have gotten into glasswork if it wasn’t for Blaise. If you want the whole story, though, you’ll have to join me while I get something to eat.” Potter walked towards the other side of the workshop, and Draco found himself following without a second thought.

Potter led him to a back room that was set up as a small kitchen and waved him to a seat at the table.

“I’m done for the day, so I’m just going to take a quick shower,” Potter said, “Help yourself to anything in the cupboards.” Without waiting for a response, Potter headed up a set of stairs in the corner.

Draco spent twenty minutes sitting at the small table and debating with himself over whether or not he should just leave. Yes, he still wanted to commission a gift for his mother, but he could always send Potter an owl to request a meeting. Then again, he was already here, and Potter was obviously willing to talk to him, so why not take advantage of the opportunity? Potter was even willing to tell Draco how he became a glassblower, and Draco had to admit he was intrigued.

When Potter came back downstairs his hair was almost neat for a change, and he was wearing a comfortable-looking Muggle outfit consisting of dark jeans and a red shirt. For the first time, Draco also noticed that Potter wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“It’s about time you got your eyes fixed,” Draco said, “Those glasses were an eyesore.” He could have hexed himself immediately after, as he realized his words could be taken as an insult. Luckily, though, Potter just laughed.

“Well, I couldn’t get them fixed during school,” Potter replied, “My relatives…didn’t trust magical healing remedies.” Draco noticed the pause but had no chance to comment on it as Potter continued speaking, “After the war, I saw a Healer, but they said the Oculus Potion wouldn’t work for my eyes, and neither would the normal healing spell. It was just about three years ago when I let Hermione talk me into seeing a Muggle eye doctor, and I got corrective surgery.”

“Surgery?” Draco frowned, and realized he’d been doing a lot of that since Potter revealed himself, “Does that mean they cut into your eyes? That’s barbaric!”

“I’m no good at explaining the process,” Potter replied, “but I can give you a book about it. And no, I don’t think it’s barbaric; Muggles don’t have magic, but they were still able to fix my eyes when magic failed. Do you want something to eat? Kreacher keeps some meat pies in the cupboards for me, under warming and preservation charms. And I can make us a pot of tea, unless you’d rather some pumpkin juice?”

“I had lunch a few hours ago,” Draco replied, “And I’m fine with either tea or juice.”

Potter quickly made the tea for two and brought it to the table, along with a small pile of meat pies.

“So,” Potter began, after he had eaten one of the pies, “After the war, I immediately joined the Aurors, but I quickly found out that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life chasing criminals. Plus, working for the government involves far too much paperwork and too many rules.” Draco snorted, and Potter gave him a wry smile and a nod, “I resigned before I even completed training, but I didn’t know what I wanted to do instead, so I decided to travel. I spent a year visiting different countries before I wound up in Italy. I was walking through the market when I first saw a glassblower, and I was immediately captivated. I came back every day for a week to watch the artist create amazing pieces, which is where Blaise found me; he was trying to avoid Bianca’s latest conquest.” Draco nodded his understanding; Blaise often didn’t get along with the men his mother dated, as the majority of them seemed to be interested in the Zabini wealth more than anything else. Draco was more surprised to hear Potter call Bianca Zabini by her first name; not many people were given that privilege, which meant that Blaise had been keeping secrets from Draco.

“When Blaise saw how interested I was in glassblowing,” Potter continued, “He invited me to visit a workshop owned by one of his uncles, Giovanni. Giovanni gave me basic lessons in glassblowing techniques. The first time Giovanni gave me permission to work with the molten glass, my magic-it’s going to sound crazy, but I swear my magic just…sang. I didn’t think, didn’t worry, I just followed my instincts, and my magic created this.” Potter whistled, and Draco turned at the whirring of wings. A small white object flew down the stairs and settled on Potter’s outstretched hand. The object was a glass owl, no bigger than Draco’s hand, with a smattering of black specks among white glass feathers and gold eyes. It looked remarkably like Potter’s owl from school.

“Your magic created that?” Draco asked, and Potter nodded.

“It did. This is Eira,” Potter said, “Giovanni was shocked when Eira was created, but that was nothing to his shock when she began to fly, and act just like a real owl; she even likes to hunt, even if she doesn’t need food. I wind up making several tiny glass mice every week, which are, thankfully, happy to eat colored sand.”

“If she acts just like a regular owl,” Draco began, “Then what about digestion and waste?”

“Same as a real owl, only made of glass,” Potter replied, then continued his story, “Giovanni was…he was over the moon when he realized that I had a natural talent for magical glassworking; evidently there are witches and wizards who apply spells to the glass either before or after the piece is made, but very few who are able to craft glass with their magic, and none who can currently make living creations. Giovanni and Blaise immediately sent an owl to the Magical Artisans guild in Florence and a master came to evaluate me. He confirmed that I have a natural ability to work glass with magic but said I needed to understand and master the craft without magic first.

“Giovanni took me as an apprentice, and Blaise and Bianca let me stay with them for the next year and a half. I mostly worked on non-magical glass techniques, but at least once a week I would let my magic free to create whatever it wanted. Bianca has a dozen or so jewel-colored glass butterflies in her private garden, Blaise has a glass fire that gives off real heat, and several of his other family members have small trinkets.

“After I finished my apprenticeship with Giovanni, I apprenticed to Master Lorenzo on the Isle of Glass. I stayed on the isle for three years before I was given a shop of my own. During that time, I still visited Blaise and his family whenever I had a free day. Then, about a year ago, Blaise told me that he’d heard about a new shopping area for artists that had just opened off of Diagon Alley. As much as I loved spending time in Italy, I missed England, so I bought one of the new shop sites and I opened Molten last year.” Potter fell silent for a moment, before adding, “So, I guess you can see why I thought Blaise sent you to my shop.”

“Blaise is a prat,” Draco replied, and Potter grinned, “He didn’t tell me anything- I didn’t even know you spent time with him.” Draco frowned as an unwelcome possibility occurred to him, “Are you and Blaise-or were you-together?”

“No way!” Potter denied, “Blaise is too…I don’t think he’s anywhere near ready to settle down.” Potter frowned; “Would it have been a problem if I was dating Blaise?”

“Only if he had kept it a secret from me,” Draco said, then, deciding to take a chance, added with a smirk, “Of course, if you had been dating Blaise, you might very well have been witness to a duel; Blaise knows better than to date you before I get my chance to ask you out.” Potter looked at him with wide eyes, then flushed and looked away, turning his attention back to Eira, who had fallen asleep on his hand.

“Er, I’m just going to put Eira back in her nest in my room,” Potter said, standing up and moving to the stairs. He paused with his foot on the bottom step and glanced over his shoulder, “Would you like to see it? Eira’s nest, I mean, not my room.”

“I’d love to,” Draco set his tea down on the table and joined Potter as the brunet went upstairs.

Potter’s room was of average size, with dark wood floors and a cherry wood bedroom set. The large four poster bed had dark grey curtains tied back to reveal a blue comforter with silver embroidery, and a woven rug of alternating rings of blue and silver covered most of the floor. Grey curtains framed a large window with a window seat overlooking the courtyard and Potter's workshop. One corner of the window seat held a small glass tree, and Draco watched as Eira launched herself into the air. She flew around Potter’s head a few times, then angled her flight so that she could land on a thick glass tree branch, which she made her way along until she reached a hole in the trunk, where she obviously had her nest.

“This is amazing,” Draco said quietly, not sure if the glass owl was sleeping-or even if it could sleep-but still not wanting to risk waking it.

“Thank you,” Potter grinned, “I have to admit, she is one of my favorite creations.” He gave a soft laugh, “The only problem, is that I can’t get a real owl; Eira tends to get jealous. Come on; Eira tends to be grumpy if there’s too much noise when she’s taking a nap.”

Draco followed Potter back down to the kitchen where the brunet fixed them each another cup of tea.

“So,” Potter began, “If Blaise didn’t tell you about me, what brought you to my shop?”

“I was looking for a special gift for Mother,” Draco said, “I saw the sign for Artistic Alley as I was passing Gringotts, and I thought your shop looked interesting. I honestly had no idea this was your shop; you’ve done well for yourself, Potter.”

“Thanks,” Potter said, flushing with pleasure at the compliment, “So, did you talk Kreacher into letting you into the workshop? The elves are usually pretty good about having customers fill out a form to request an appointment, but I know that Kreacher had a fondness for you since your Mum was a Black.

“No, I didn’t speak to any of the elves,” Draco told him, “When I saw the sign saying you took commissions, I let myself out the back and made my way to the workshop.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Potter rolled his eyes, “I should make you set an appointment, but I suppose we can do the consultation now since you’ve already invaded my space.”

“Hmph!” Draco sniffed, “I merely paid a visit to your workshop; you were the one who invited me inside for tea. Thank you, by the way.”

“No problem,” Potter replied, before returning to business, “So, I handle personal requests one of two ways. The first option is for you to tell me what you want me to create for your mum. The second option, and the way I prefer to work, is for you to give me an item that your mum handles often; this could be as simple as a favorite quill. I meditate on the item before I start crafting, and I let the magic form on its own. That’s how most of my living creations come about; I let the magic choose the form.”

“The second option,” Draco decided, the asked, “What about the lovebirds in the shop? Is someone supposed to be coming to pick them up?”

“Sometimes my magic creates something even when I don’t have a client in mind,” Potter replied, “When that happens, I place the creation near the register, and they stay there until the person they were created for enters. For example, a few weeks ago I created a living turtle. Two days after it was finished, a witch came in the shop with her eight-year-old, and the turtle began running back and forth across the tank I made for it. When the boy approached the tank, the turtle tried to climb out; my creations always let me know who they belong with.”

“I’ve never heard of anything like this before,” Draco shook his head, “I always wanted to learn how to create something, but I simply never had the time. I’m impressed with what you’ve done; I never thought of you as artistic.”

“Neither did I,” Potter laughed, “I was probably more surprised than Blaise when I turned out to have a talent for glasswork.” Potter paused for a moment, then said, “You know Malfoy, if you’re interested, I’ve never taught anyone before-but I can try to teach you how to-I mean, I can at least teach you the basics of blowing.”

“Why, Potter, how forward of you,” Draco teased, “I admit, the tea is nice, but I would expect you to at least take me out for supper before making such an offer.” Potter flushed again, spluttering as he realized what it sounded like he was offering.

“That’s not-I didn’t mean-” Draco laughed at Potter’s floundering, earning himself an emerald-eyed glare, “You are such a git, Malfoy; you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Pity,” Draco said, smirking when Potter’s flush deepened, “Well, perhaps another time. As for learning to craft glass…while I definitely appreciated the sight you made, I don’t think working at a forge is the right fit for me.” Draco paused, thinking about the amazing designs he’d seen in the alley. “I might be interested in trying my hand at creating a mosaic, though; or perhaps painting. No, not painting; I’d hate to get the paint in my hair.”

“Maybe you should take up knitting,” Potter offered with false innocence, “Then you won’t have to worry about ruining your manicure.”

“Haha,” Draco said dryly, “Just because some of us actually care about our appearance-”

Draco spent the next hour or so going back and forth with Potter, as they teased each other. It was surprisingly fun, and Draco couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled so much. This argument was much more light-hearted than the ones he and Potter had in school, and he found himself fascinated by the man his school rival had become. Draco was startled when a chime interrupted their argument, and his gaze was drawn to a clock on the wall; the hands were pointing to “Suppertime”.

“Ah, I was not aware it had gotten so late,” Draco said, putting his teacup down, “I had a surprisingly pleasant time, Potter; perhaps we can continue our conversation over supper? I wouldn’t mind trying another one of the restaurants in the alley.”

“Sorry, I can’t,” Potter said, “I already have plans.”

“Oh, I see,” Draco stood up, feeling foolish for making the offer; a conversation in Potter’s kitchen was one thing, but obviously the former Gryffindor wouldn’t want to be seen with him in public. “Very well, I’ll just owl one of Mother’s quills to you tomorrow then. You can send a message with one of you House Elves when Mother’s gift is ready.”

“No,” Potter said, and Draco narrowed his eyes, preparing to hex the brunet if Potter was about to refuse his commission, “I mean, why don’t you bring the quill by tomorrow evening? Around five, maybe? I’m eating with Andromeda and Teddy tonight, but…I don’t have plans for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night,” Draco repeated, and Potter nodded, biting his bottom lip and looking away for a moment before meeting Draco’s gaze head-on.

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Potter said, “There’s a new Greek restaurant I’ve been wanting to try, and we can talk more then. If you don’t have plans, that it.”

“I don’t have plans,” Draco said, “Okay, Potter; tomorrow it is then. Five, yes?”

“Yeah,” Potter agreed, “And, er-if we’re going to have dinner and be-since we’re not enemies anymore, you can call me Harry.” Draco eyed Potter warily, not having expected the brunet to make the offer so soon-if at all-but Potter just smiled at him, even if his eyes betrayed his nervousness.

“Okay,” Draco agreed, “You may call me Draco. I should be going now; I would hate to make you late for your supper plans. See you tomorrow, Harry.”

Draco left Molten feeling satisfied with himself; the day had gone better than he could have imagined.

** ** ** **

“So,” Harry began, “You never really said what you’ve been up to these past few years.”

It was the following evening, and Harry and Draco were wandering through Artistic Alley after a pleasant dinner at Olympus, a restaurant specializing in Greek cuisine. The two had spent the entire meal talking and bickering good-naturedly, and Draco discovered that Harry was much more intelligent than he pretended to be while they were in school; Harry evidently had a head for math, as he handled his own finances, and he also enjoyed spell crafting. The brunet also displayed a familiarity with potions that truly surprised Draco; apparently, Harry had been so off-put by Professor Snape’s behavior that he simply didn’t put any effort into the man’s class. Harry also admitted that he didn’t put as much effort into school in general as he should have; Ron Weasley had been the brunet’s first friend, and Harry had modeled his study habits after the redhead.

“Well, as you likely remember, I served two years of House Arrest after the war,” Draco replied, “A good portion of the Malfoy Vaults were demanded by the ministry as reparation, but they couldn’t touch Mother’s vaults as she was never convicted of any crimes. Thank you for that, by the way.

“After I reviewed Father’s business dealings and canceled the illegal ones, I then spent a good year or so removing cursed objects from the manor; I also got rid of Father’s bloody peacocks. I hired Gringotts Curse Breakers to do a full sweep of the manor, and then Mother and I set about redecorating everything from the owlry to the dungeons, as well as the grounds. Once that was taken care of, I turned the dungeons into a potions lab. I have spent the past few years building a mail-order potions business called ‘Valerian and Hawthorne’. I would like to eventually purchase a physical shop, but I am not certain people will be willing to purchase the potions if they know I made them.”

“That’s stupid,” Harry scoffed, “They’ve been using your potions for years without any problems, right?”

“I’ve had the occasional complaint,” Draco admitted, “Sometimes a potion will not work for a customer, or they will forget to mention an allergy to me. I have had no serious complaints, however, and I issue a partial refund for potions that do not work for a customer.”

“Partial because you spent time and resources making the potion,” Harry said, and Draco nodded, pleased that the brunet understood, “I do the same if a client doesn’t like something I created for them. I can usually sell it to someone else, but I keep a portion of the down payment to cover the time I spent creating the item.”

“Speaking of which, when do you think you will begin working on Mother’s gift?”

“I’ll let my magic get a feel for her first, probably starting in the morning,” Harry said, “Just from handling the quill this evening, I can tell she used it a lot; it is saturated with impressions of her. I’m not sure how long it will take me to finish the project, but I guarantee it will be finished in time for Christmas.” Harry paused, then added, “I was actually surprised you don’t celebrate Yule.”

“Oh, we do,” Draco said, “For Yule, however, we make the gifts for one another. We sometimes use magic, and sometimes just our hands, but we always make the gifts. It was a tradition Mother shared with her sisters and cousins before they grew old enough to be separated by differences of opinion, and she insisted on continuing the tradition when she married Father.”

“You won’t believe this,” Harry grinned, “but Andromeda does the same thing; she insists on hand-made presents for Yule, although she never told me why. I always suspected she missed your mum though; there is a picture on the fireplace mantle of Andromeda and Narcissa as teenagers. It’s hidden behind the Floo pot and a picture of Tonks and Remus with baby Teddy, but it’s still there.”

“Mother has never said anything, but I believe she misses Aunt Andromeda as well,” Draco admitted.

“Well, we need to get them together then,” Harry said, “Enough families were split during the war; I think it’s time to mend ties where we can. Don’t you agree?”

“If I didn’t, I would have left your shop the moment you turned around,” Draco said, “As it stands, I am glad I happened in your shop-and I am glad you agreed to have dinner with me tonight.”

“So am I,” Harry smiled, “I halfway expected us to get into an argument that ended with one of us having wine thrown in their face.”

“That would have been amusing,” Draco smirked, and Harry nodded with a grin, “Since you enjoyed the evening, would you be willing to do it again sometime?”

“That depends on whether you can be more specific,” Harry replied, “I’m not a fan of vague plans; it usually means the other person isn’t really that interested.”

“Well, nice to see you’re still direct,” Draco said, “Is your shop open every day?”

“It is,” Harry confirmed, “But I don’t always go in. Since it’s my shop, I can take a day off whenever I don’t have a project waiting, or even if I just need a break. I usually take every other Saturday off to spend time with Teddy, and I leave early on Friday’s for dinner with Andromeda and Teddy, and Sunday’s to have dinner with the Weasley’s.”

“Since you were working today, I suppose next Saturday is a Teddy day?” Draco asked, and Harry nodded, “And tomorrow you will be with the Weasley’s.” Another nod. “Have you ever been to the theatre?”

“Like, the movie theatre?” Harry asked.

“Of course not,” Draco scoffed, “The _real_ theatre; there are several seasonal shows over the next two weeks. If you are free…let’s say Wednesday evening, I will make dinner reservations and purchase tickets to whatever is playing at the Globe.”

“Sounds like fun,” Harry grinned, “Just owl me with the time.” Harry twitched his fingers and cast a wandless Tempus; “Speaking of time, it’s already after midnight, so I should probably get home.”

“Of course,” Draco said, hiding his disappointment; he had been enjoying speaking with Harry, “I’ll check the showtimes and owl you tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it,” Harry said; he hesitated, then asked, “Aren’t you going to walk me home? This wouldn’t be much of a date if you didn’t see me to my door.”

“Your door that is just three shops down?” Draco smirked, even as he linked arms with Harry, leading him down the alley, “Well, I would hate to be considered a poor date.”

A few minutes later, they came to a stop at the rear entrance of Molten, and the two men turned to face each other.

“Thank you for supper,” Harry said, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Thank you for giving me a chance,” Draco replied, then leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Harry’s lips, “Good night, Harry.”

“Night, Draco,” Harry replied, and Draco gave another smirk before apparating home.

** ** **

Wednesday evening, Harry and Draco enjoyed watching “A Christmas Carol" from the ornate box Draco had rented. They had an excellent view of the stage, and Draco marveled at how the Muggles were able to create special effects without magic. Flying, ghosts walking through walls, and mist rolling off the stage were just a few of the things he saw.

“You should come see a movie with me sometime,” Harry said as they were leaving the theatre, “If you thought the special effects here were amazing, you won't believe what they can do using technology.”

“A movie is like a play?” Draco asked; he had heard the term before but wasn't quite clear on what it meant.

“Kind of,” Harry said, “It's like- kind of like if I watched play then let you watch my memory of it in a pensieve. Muggles have a type of camera that can record hours of activity, and then it can be played back either in the theater or on the Telly. Actually, I was going to take Teddy to see a movie Saturday; why don't you come with us?”

“I would hate to intrude,” Draco said, even though he was curious about his little cousin- and he really did want to see what all the fuss was about movies.

“You wouldn't be intruding,” Harry rolled his eyes, “I think Teddy would like to meet his cousin.”

“But would Aunt Andromeda want him to spend time with me?” Draco asked.

“It shouldn't be a problem,” Harry shrugged, “I'll ask Andie first, but I think she'll be okay with it. She may want to meet you first, though.”

“That's understandable,” Draco said, “Talk to Andromeda first, then let me know what she says. If it's okay with her I would love to join you and Teddy for a movie.”

** **

The following Saturday, Draco joined Harry and Teddy for a night out in Muggle London. He met them at his Aunt Andromeda’s house and spent a few hours getting to know his aunt and cousin. Andromeda’s resemblance to Bellatrix was unnerving, but that was nothing compared to how Draco felt when Teddy’s black hair turned platinum blond, and his green eyes turned grey. Harry had laughed at the expression on Draco’s face, as Andromeda kindly explained that Teddy was a metamorphmagus, just like his deceased mother, Nymphadora Tonks. Once he got over the shock, Draco was flattered that Teddy decided to mimic his appearance. By the time they left to take a bus into the city- after they had supper, which consisted of a strange-yet-delicious food called pizza- Teddy had changed his eyes back to green but kept his hair blond.

The bus dropped them off in front of a large building that Harry said was a movie theater. The outside of the building had varied images of what were evidently the different movies currently available to watch; each poster had times listed down at the bottom. Harry purchased tickets for the three of them to see “A Muppet Christmas Carol”, which the brunet said was a different interpretation of the play they had watched the night before. He also told Draco that the movie actually came out several years ago, but it was brought back to theaters for the month of December.

Once the tickets were paid for, Teddy led them to stand in another line where they could purchase refreshments. Harry bought them each a drink, a large popcorn for the three of them to share, and a box of candy for Teddy. Draco was amazed at the special effects in the movie, although the puppets-or Muppets, as they were called in this movie- confused him somewhat. After the movie was over, Harry had to explain that the Muppets had been made popular due to starring in numerous other movies and a television show. Draco still didn’t understand the point of using the puppet-like-objects instead of humans, but he enjoyed the movie regardless. The mention of television shows really caught his interest though, and Teddy insisted that Draco should come back to the house with them so the eight-year-old could show his newfound cousin his favorite movies. A glance from Harry had Draco declining the invitation-it was almost ten at night, and he knew it was probably past Teddy’s bed time- although he promised to come over again some other day. Harry and Draco shared a brief kiss before separating at the bus stop; Draco intended to apparate home from London.

** **

The next week was a busy one for both Draco and Harry, and they didn’t have a chance to meet up again until two days before Christmas when Harry sent a House Elf to let Draco know that Narcissa’s gift was ready. Draco had been working on a large potions request from Hogwarts (a group of students evidently decided to duel in the infirmary, and destroyed an entire cabinet full of general healing potions, such as Pepper-up and Cure for Boils), and he asked the elf to let Harry know he would be by later that evening.

Draco finished bottling the last potion at five that evening, and he took a quick shower before apparating to the courtyard behind Harry’s shop. The large door to the workshop was closed, so Draco let himself in the back door and made his way to the kitchen. Harry was at the stove, but he turned at the sound of the door opening and rolled his eyes when Draco walked in.

“Gee, Draco, no need to be shy,” Harry said dryly as he fixed himself a cup of tea, “Just let yourself in and make yourself at home.”

“Thank you, I will do just that,” Draco replied, smirking at the brunet, “Is there enough tea to share?”

“I suppose,” Harry summoned a second teacup and fixed Draco a cup with just enough cream and sugar, “Busy day?”

“Idiots decided the Hogwarts infirmary was the best place to duel,” Draco said, and they both rolled their eyes, “I restocked most of the basic healing potions for Madame Pomfrey; I’ve actually been working on the order all week. You have been busy as well?”

“I had a lot of last-minute requests,” Harry said, “A few people were upset when I told them that I couldn’t guarantee a gift would be ready in time for Christmas; they seemed to think I could just make something in five minutes. Speaking of gifts, I have your mum’s gift and her quill in my study if you’re ready to see it.”

“Of course,” Draco set his cup down and followed Harry upstairs to a door next to the one that led to the brunet’s bedroom. Harry opened the door carefully and gestured for Draco to enter first. Draco looked around the office but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary until Harry gestured for him to look up. On top of a bookcase on the other side of the room, was a glass bird slightly bigger than Draco’s hand. The bird resembled a phoenix, but it was bright blue and white instead of the normal red and gold.

“She’s a phoenix,” Harry said, “She was actually finished a week ago, but I wanted to observe her so that I could tell you how to take care of her.” Draco nodded his understanding and gestured for Harry to continue. “Well, she’ll eat sand and small bits of broken glass. She will have a burning day, although I’m not sure how often; she chipped one of her wings the first day she was created and burst into bright blue flames- real flames too, not just glass. After a few minutes the flames did turn into glass though, and she emerged as a baby phoenix.” Harry picked up a small box on the desk and opened it to show Draco a few shards of glass shaped like flames. Draco reached to pick one up but paused when he felt warmth emanating from the glass.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “The glass flames are still warm; I’d be careful to keep them away from flammable objects.” Harry closed the box and handed it to Draco, then picked up a small vial a third of the way full of what appeared to be tiny shards of glass. On closer inspection, Draco realized that it was actually-

“Phoenix tears?” Draco asked, and Harry nodded, “But there are several different colors; some of these tears look like rubies.”

“The color of the tears depends on what color sand she eats,” Harry told him, then asked, “So? What do you think?”

“I think she is amazing,” Draco said, “Mother will love her.” Draco looked at Harry thoughtfully then said, “I know you probably have plans for Christmas Day, but what about Christmas Eve?”

“I usually stay the night with Andromeda and Teddy,” Harry said, “But I don’t have to be there until later that night.”

“Would you like to come to the Manor before you go to Andromeda’s?” Draco asked, “Mother and I usually have a nice supper on Christmas Eve and each open one present. If you join us for supper, you can bring Mother’s present with you…and I can give you your present in person, instead of having to send it with a House Elf.”

“I-your mum wouldn’t mind?” Harry asked, “I mean, if it’s a tradition, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Mother will not mind,” Draco assured him, “She actually told me I should invite you for supper some night. So, will you come?”

“I-yeah,” Harry said, “I’ll come. What time?”

** **

After an enjoyable Christmas Eve dinner, Narcissa, Harry, and Draco moved to the family parlor. It was the most intimate room in the manor and held a large Christmas tree trimmed in blue and silver. The three settled in comfortable chairs by the fireplace, and Narcissa’s personal House Elf, Rosie popped in with a tea tray, then stood waiting to be told which presents to hand out.

“Since Harry is a guest, give him his gifts first,” Narcissa said, then explained to the brunet, “Since you will not be with us tomorrow, you get to open my gift for you, as well as your gift from Draco.”

“Oh, thank you,” Harry flushed as Rosie gave him two gifts, both wrapped in silver paper and topped with a gold bow. He opened the gift from Narcissa first, which was an album containing pictures of Sirius as a kid; many of the pictures had Regulus in them as well, and there were some pictures that included Narcissa and Andromeda. Narcissa had used a spell to remove Bellatrix from the pictures.

“Thank you, Narcissa,” Harry said, gently touching the images before setting the album aside, “I only have a few pictures of Sirius; I really love it.”

“You are very welcome,” Narcissa told him with a smile, “Come over for tea sometime and I will tell you stories about the mischief your godfather got up to as a child.” After promising to come back for another visit, Harry opened his gift from Draco, which was a potion the blond had just perfected.

“The potion is my own invention,” Draco explained, “Add one drop of potion to any magical photograph, and it will bring the scene to life as if you were viewing it in a pensieve. The scene will be longer than the short events that replay in the photograph- I tried it on some of my pictures, and the scene lasts anywhere from ten minutes to a half-hour. While it plays, you will feel as if you are there. After the scene ends, the picture will return to a normal magical photograph.”

“This is-it’s amazing,” Harry said, “Thank you, Draco; I can’t wait to try it out.”

Narcissa opened her gift from Harry next, and she thanked him politely for the bird perch made of silver glass and the numerous containers of colored sand, but Draco could tell his mother was confused.

“It will all make sense once you open my gift,” Draco told her. A few moments later, Narcissa was exclaiming in surprised pleasure as the glass phoenix perched on her knee, crooning softly. Narcissa was entranced with her living glass phoenix, whom she decided to name Diamante. The small phoenix moved to rest on Narcissa’s shoulder and promptly settled down for a nap.

Draco opened his gift from Narcissa next, which turned out to be the deed for a building in Artistic Alley.

“Potions are just as much of an art form as anything else sold there,” Narcissa told him, “It is time you stop allowing fear of other people’s perceptions to prevent you from reaching your full potential.”

After thanking his mother, Draco opened his gift from Harry. As he took the lid off the box, a jet of blue flames emerged, nearly causing Draco to drop his gift.

“What-?” Draco quickly put the lid back on, only to hear an enraged shriek from inside the box.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said sheepishly, “He doesn’t like being contained. If you take the lid off again he should calm down- just, don’t look into the box; let him come out.” Draco glanced at Harry uncertainly but then noticed the small bit of flame-shaped blue glass that had fallen in his lap, and he realized that the box must contain one of the brunet’s living glass creatures.

Eager to see what Harry had created for him, Draco removed the lid once again, making certain to hold the box away from his body. Another jet of blue flames emerged, which quickly solidified and dropped to the carpet. A few seconds later, a dark green form leaped out of the box and flew around the room, shooting jets of flame every few seconds until it seemed to run out of…whatever it was that produced the flame.

The green creature shrieked again, then flew towards Draco; still a little wary, Draco stretched out his arm and was awed when a glass dragon landed on it. The dragon was made of dark green glass, but his claws and the tips of his wings were silver. The eyes looked like black opals, and Harry nodded when Draco said as much.

“Yeah, I had some gemstones in the workshop that I collected over the years,” Harry said, “When I created your dragon, my magic chose the black opals to be his eyes.”

“He’s beautiful,” Draco said, and the dragon preened, causing the blond to laugh in delight, “Well, what should I name you? It has to be something special; something unique. How about Jade? No, too common.” Draco frowned as he considered the dragon, thinking about the different celestial names he had learned growing up. Finally, he decided on one that he thought was fitting; Hyperion. Harry rolled his eyes but the dragon, Hyperion, seemed to like it, if the way that he immediately curled up in Draco’s lap was any indication.

“Well, I think I shall retire for the night,” Narcissa announced, cradling Diamante as she got to her feet, “It was lovely to have you visit tonight Harry; don’t forget to owl me so we can have tea one afternoon.”

“I won’t forget,” Harry promised, “Thank you for letting me join you tonight.”

“You are most welcome,” Narcissa said, “Draco, don’t stay up too late; I want to show you your new shop in the morning. Good night, darling.”

“Good night, Mother,” Draco replied, then turned his attention to Harry, who had also stood.

“I should probably be getting back over to Andie’s,” Harry said, “I really enjoyed being here tonight though.”

“We enjoyed having you here,” Draco told him, then added, “I enjoyed having you here. Now that Christmas has passed, perhaps we can spend more time together?”

“I would like that,” Harry agreed, “Once you open your shop, maybe we can have lunch together a few times a week?”

“Definitely,” Draco said, “What are you doing for New Years?”

“Molly- Mrs. Weasley- is having a celebration at the Burrow,” Harry said, “Actually, I was wondering if you would come with me? As my date, I mean. The Weasley’s already know we’re dating, and Molly said you’re welcome to come over there with me anytime.”

“The world may come to an end,” Draco replied, “but I’ll go with you. I suppose I would have to deal with your friends at some point, so might as well get it out of the way.”

“Good,” Harry beamed, “Then I’ll see you New Year’s Eve. Meet at my place at seven?”

“Seven o’clock New Year’s Eve,” Draco confirmed, walking Harry to the Floo, “I look forward to it- and to seeing where the new year takes us.” Draco cradled Hyperion in one arm and lifted his free hand to cup Harry’s face and pull him in for a kiss. “Happy Christmas, Harry,” Draco whispered when they parted.

“Happy Christmas, Draco,” Harry replied, giving Draco another quick kiss before grabbing a handful of Floo powder and vanishing in a rush of emerald flames. Draco heard a chirp from the dragon in his arms and had to quickly grab Hyperion, who was trying to get to the pot of Floo powder.

“Absolutely not,” Draco said, holding the dragon with both hands as he headed for his room, “We are not experimenting with Floo powder tonight. You can have some nice colored sand, but you are not to go near the Floo powder. And you had better not set anything on fire either!” Draco continued to lecture Hyperion until they reached the bedroom, when the little dragon gave an irritated huff and wriggled out of Draco’s grasp. Hyperion flew over to the bed and made himself comfortable on one of the pillows as Draco got dressed for bed. As he slid under the covers, Draco marveled at how much his life had changed in just two weeks, and he found himself looking forward to seeing what changes the new year would bring.


End file.
